Diagon Alley
by Reetinkerbell
Summary: It is the end of summer and a couple is arguing. DracoxHermione.


**Title**: Diagon Alley  
**Fandom**: Harry Potter  
**Characters**: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger.  
**Summary**: It is the end of summer and a couple is arguing.  
**Rating**: PG  
**Word Count**: 800  
**Spoilers**: AU.  
**Author's** **Note**: Thanks to my beta, **shagmedraco** for everything.  
**Distribution**: Link only please.  
**Written**: March 2010.

**Diagon Alley** (1/1)

Diagon Alley was more packed than usual – it was the end of summer and the usual patrons had to share the space with parents out buying supplies with their Hogwarts bound children. The large crowd of people created an indiscernible hum as they talked to each other, enjoying the beautiful and peaceful day together.

At first, few noticed the young couple arguing. But as their voices rose higher and people began to recognise the two, several heads turned and more than a few ears perked in the hopes of catching the two notorious rowers in the act. Since it'd come out that they'd begun seeing each other, several gossipy articles had been printed, detailing their arguments – true as well as false ones – and more than one person watching wanted to sell the story of their latest row and earn a nice sum.

It looked as though the woman had had enough – she threw her hands up in the air in a clear sign of giving up, hissed something in the face of the man before she turned and hurried off down the street. The people parted the way for her, but she didn't notice or care as she walked, her head down.

The man stood shock still where she'd left him, watching her go. He too ignored the crowd, even as it'd begun to whisper and speculate as they looked back and forth between the two, wondering what would happen next.

"Your hair is just so incredibly stupid!" he cried out desperately after the woman.

She spun around, fire in her eyes as she glared at him. "_What_?"

"Your hair, it's just ridiculous," he elaborated as he walked towards her, not even glancing at the people who watched the new events unfolding. "When I wake up with you, your hair is always trying to choke me to death."

"If you're going to continue to insult me…" she left the rest of the threat unsaid, crossing her arms as she made a move as if to leave him standing by his own in the street again.

He was now close enough to touch her and he took advantage of that fact by wrapping his hands over her shoulder, holding her in place.

"But as much as I think you need serious help in hair care management," he said, leaning his face closer to hers, "there's nothing I want more in this world than to wake up with my face buried in that bushy hair of yours for the rest of my life."

The crowd watched, eyes wide. They were quiet as they now strained to hear the voices of the couple.

"Really?" she asked hesitatingly.

"Really," he agreed, nodding.

"Then why are you being such a prat?" she demanded.

His hands squeezed her shoulders gently as he sighed. "Because I'm scared," he admitted so quietly only the people closest to them could make out the words, "I've never done this before, never felt this way about anyone."

"I haven't either," she returned; her voice just as quiet.

He leaned his forehead against hers and her eyes fluttered shut as she breathed him in.

"Do you know when I realised I was completely in love with you?" he asked suddenly.

Her eyes flew open. She leaned back and met his steady gaze. Overcome and unable to answer, she shook her head.

"It was a Sunday morning, when we were having breakfast in your flat," he began, smiling as he recalled the day. "I was watching Crookshanks and you commented on how you were sure he missed Hogwarts even more than you did, because of the freedom he'd had there that he didn't get in the city. Do you remember?"

She nodded slowly, a small smile playing her lips as well. Though no one knew what she was thinking, of how she remembered the moment as clearly as she saw him now; her small yellow kitchen with the sink piled with the unwashed dishes from their dinner the night before, the tea that was just a smidge too hot and the toast he'd burnt just a little too badly. They'd just recently begun seeing each other and he'd yet to learn how to use a toaster.

"And I thought, _Crookshanks is going to love the Manor_." He smiled crookedly down at her. "No would, no maybe – just certainty."

She swallowed nervously, her eyes suspiciously bright in the sunshine.

"And I could see it so clearly," he continued, his hands rising up to cup her cheeks gently. "Crookshanks being chased around the grounds by our bushy-haired children. One of them even had glasses, though far superior to the Quidditch-wrecks Potter has been sporting over the years."

The woman sniffed. "Draco, I…" Unable to continue, she instead leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

**The End. **


End file.
